


The Persistence of Memory

by PainInMyAsgard



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Animagus, Corruption, Discovery, F/M, Friendship, Harry Potter Next Generation, Hogwarts, Inter-House Relationships, Inter-House Unity, Male-Female Friendship, Ministry of Magic, Next Generation, Quests, Slow Burn, Teacher-Student Relationship, The Marauder's Map, Time Travel, Uagado, wolf animagus
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-02-13
Updated: 2015-02-13
Packaged: 2018-03-12 03:54:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 965
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3342710
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PainInMyAsgard/pseuds/PainInMyAsgard
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The human race assumed, if it were to ever occur, that they would be the cause of World War III. Global Warming, international conflict, nuclear weapons- the theories were endless and all of them were products of their own design. They assumed they would be the catalyst of their own demise, as they had been for centuries. However, that was before they knew about the Wizarding World.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Persistence of Memory

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys!
> 
> I got the idea for this story in a dream and couldn't stop thinking about it till I wrote it down. Since this is my first upload to AO3 and my first attempt EVER at anything Potter related, please be gentle with me. Just bare with me :) But if I get anything wrong with the mythos, please feel free to let me know.
> 
> Thanks a bunch and happy reading!

**Nocte Silenti**

 

**_Prologue_ **

_1 st of September, 2017_

 

 

 

Hot steam grazed the exposed skin of my face and neck as I walked along the line of platform 9 and ¾ for the first time. My stomach began a flurry of nervousness and excitement as my eyes met the crowd of people a head. The irritation of the train exhaust made me flinch slightly, my eyes watering as they appraised the area. Mothers and fathers wished their children well as they saw them off, returning students embraced their fellow classmates, and staff rushed to pack luggage onto the train’s lower belly. I idly wondered where they would place Selene on the trip to the castle- I knew how much the Siamese cat despised confined spaces.

“Departure in 10 minutes,” the conductor yelled from his open window.

A gentle but firm hand landed on my shoulder then, jarring me from my reprieve.

“Looks like its time to go.”

I turned to my left and met my father’s warm gaze, his sympathetic smile calming me.

“It’s all right to be nervous,” he went on, handing me my leather satchel. “It’s only natural.”

I fiddled with the strap for a moment before pulling it over my right shoulder.

“I’m not nervous,” I paused. “More anxious than anything, I guess.”

He chuckled for a moment.

“You are your mothers daughter, always in a rush to get things going.”

My face faltered for a moment. Ulysses Zabini rarely spoke of my mother and I barely remembered her. With his sudden confession, I shifted uncomfortably, unsure of what to say.

My father amended the moment as he descended to my height, adjusting the front of my dark wool cardigan to his liking.

He locked his warm brown eyes with mine.

“You’ll be perfectly fine, you always are.”

I snorted slightly. “Don’t get your hopes up. I just may come back home this Christmas a completely different person, criminal record and all.”

“Whatever you do, try your best not to get caught,” he laughed. “The Zabini name shall not be tarnished.”

My returning smile was genuine before I wrapped my arms around my father, leaning into his chest. Tears prickled at my eyes as he returned the embrace, but I blinked them away.

“I will see you soon,” he murmured against my hair.

As I pulled away, my eyes rose and met with the brightest green I’d ever seen. A boy my age was in a similar embrace with what I could only assume was his father. The untidy mop of inky black hair shook into his face slightly with the billowing steam surrounding the platform. He was beautiful in a delicate way, like if you touched him with the slightest of pressure he could break. And yet his eyes told a different story entirely, as if the very core of the boy was forged from the strongest of metals.

“Departure in 5 minutes!”

I was the first to break our gaze at the sound of the conductor’s bellow.  I retreated from my father’s arms and inclined my head toward the train.

“I should get going,” I said as my father rose to his natural height.

He nodded his head and smiled once more.

“Good luck.”

My feet carried me backward for moment before righting themselves and carried me onto the train car. I pushed the entrance door open and observed the children around me. Most were seated already and those who weren’t made their was from seat to seat, socializing with as many people as they could before the train began to move. Some looked up at me as I passed and I returned their gazes as politely as possible.

I spotted an empty booth few feet a head and rushed to it immediately. Once I was seated, I pulled my bag from my shoulder and placed it onto the seat next to me.

I was here, _finally_.

My eyes shifted toward the window on my left and squinted slightly as they attempted to find my father. As much as I refused to admit it, I would miss him dearly. Separation from the person I had spent most of the 12 years of my life with should constitute that. Both hands lifted to wipe the condensation from the glass before I appraised the crowd.

Before I could find him once more, the sudden motion of the train pulling away from the platform jolted my head forward into to glass.

“Bloody bastard!”

I gripped my forehead in pain, and winced.

“Are you okay?” someone murmured behind me.

I turned slightly toward the voice, seeing the beautiful green-eyed boy from the platform.

“I’m fine, thanks,” I shifted in embarrassment, dropping my hand.

“Are you sure? That looked pretty painful,” he said hesitantly.

“Yeah, I’m sure,” I sighed, looking down uncomfortably.

“Okay,” the boy said softly.

I listened, as his footsteps grew fainter over the loud hum of the train.

_Still happy you chose to sit alone?_

To my surprise, the footsteps returned and my gaze lifted to meet the boy’s once more as he paused at the door of my booth again.

“I’m sitting a car down with my brother and cousins,” he gestured behind himself. “We have space for one more…if you don’t want to sit by yourself, that is.”

I looked him over for a moment, taken aback by his inquiry.

The boy’s lips were pursed slightly, making his cheeks look rounder. The steel was still there in his eyes but they had softened considerably.

I felt the corners of my own lips lift as I rose from my seat in agreement. My right hand offered itself to the boy in gratitude.

“I’m Amalthea.”

The boy’s pursed expression melted into a smile at my offering as he returned the gesture.

“Albus…Potter.”


End file.
